darling, your psychopathy is showing
by thefrostedrose
Summary: "Don't you think it's hard? Never feeling anything besides anger, and hate." They'd been friends for years, but he never thought she was ever like this. "So, this is how it's going to be from now on?"/T for extreme sarcasm, language, and some disturbing topics. Starts out fun, but ends pretty seriously/


_Because there is a serious lack of good, original, not nauseating fanfiction on the GG archive. It's starts out fun, but then it gets...dark. Yeah, I researched a lot about personality disorders...NEVER DO THAT. Now I think I have all of them.  
_

* * *

"Welcome to Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women!" Headmistress Chamberlain said with a smile, and Joe Solomon tried his best to look excited. This 'experiment', as the staff at both Gallagher and Blackthorne Institute called it, did not seem as exciting as it was meant to be. "I hope you find your time here a wonderful experience."

Joe looked around again at the girls of Gallagher Academy, most of which had dressed up excessively and were making glances at him, flicking their hair and winking. He sighed, and turned once again to face the front of the dining hall.

No, this is not how he wanted to spend his last year of high school.

"Now, I'm sure some of our students would be willing to help the students of Blackthorne find their classes." Immediately, girls swarmed the tables in which the Blackthorne boys were seated, and Joe got up and left the dining hall without speaking to any of them.

His first class on his very first day on his Gallagher exchange was Senior CoveOps. He slid into a seat in the back of the damp, brick room that was pretty much a hole in the wall. Professor Buckingham began to talk, and he zoned out of her lecture as best as he could until Buckingham's change in tone interrupted his thoughts.

"Ms. Goode, you are aware that I moved you to the front row so that you wouldn't sleep in class?" Buckingham looked down at the girl slumped over her desk in the front. From his seat in the back, all Joe could see was porcelain skin and a mass of wavy dark red hair.

"Perfectly aware." The girl yawned, sitting up.

"And you insist on doing it anyway."

"A girl needs her beauty sleep, professor." She shrugged, and Joe could almost sense her smirk from where he was sitting.

"We'll speak after class." Buckingham said coldly, not amused.

"Patricia, after all we've been though?" The girl tisked, running a hand through her dark hair. The girl next to Goode had a hand pressed to her temple; this obviously happened frequently.

"Moving on," Joe didn't even try to listen to the rest of the lesson; his eyes are trained to the back of the auburn haired girl's head. He was even more surprised when she sank down in the seat across from him at lunch.

"So, you're Joe Solomon." She said dully, her eyes glancing him over. Now that she was sitting in front of him, he noticed that she was quite pretty. She was tall and slim, and her eyes were a gorgeous dark brown. But there was something mean in them, something mischievous. "Buckingham says my punishment is to show you around Gallagher these next few days. She says I have to be your mentor or something." She smirked.

"Charming and gorgeous." He replied with a smirk of his own. "It's nice to meet you…"

"Honey, I am way out of your league." She shook her head, breaking into a pretty smile. "My name's Catherine Goode." She stuck out her hand. "Eighteen years old, senior at Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. Call me Katie or Kate or any other form of my name and I'll chop your balls off." He shook it hesitantly.

"A pleasure."

"Oh, it will be." She nodded, and stood up, straightening her short plaid skirt. "I'll see you later, or something. And if you can't find me, I'll probably be avoiding my professors, or not doing my homework."

"Do I get a tour?" He asked, leaning back in his seat. She raised an eyebrow. "Of the school."

"Fine." She shrugged. "After dinner."

* * *

"So, this is the library." She twirled in a mocking circle, gesturing to all the books. "Where mostly everyone studies except for me."

"Then where do you study?" He wondered, putting his hands in his pockets and following her around the library, which was full of hard wood bookcases and low tables filled with students.

"Oh, I don't study." She clarified, sauntering down one of the rows of books.

"Too cliché for you?" He suggested, and she let out a laugh.

"Pretty much." They walked on, until they came to a table that was empty except for a dark haired girl sleeping on a pile of books. Catherine noisily laid down on top of the table, waking the other girl up.

"Is that really necessary, Catherine?" The girl fixed her glasses in an annoyed manner.

"You're top of the class, Rach. Why do you waist your time reading these stupid books?" Catherine asked, swinging her feet. Joe raised an eyebrow with a smirk, and the other girl rolled her eyes.

"I'm Rachel Cameron." She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake. "Eating boys' hearts again, are you?"

"Joe's just my punishment." She sat up, and Rachel scoffed.

"Sounds kinky. Now, would you kindly leave me to study for Japanese in peace?" Catherine hopped off the table.

"You're no fun."

"Nice to meet you, Joe. And be careful of her. She's a fiery one."

"Well, that's pretty much it." Catherine said as they exited the library into the dark hallway, leaning casually up against the stone wall. "Thank you for choosing Catherine Goode Tours, remember to take all your belongings while leaving the tour bus." She started to walk away when he called out to her.

"I'm going to be here for another six months, you know." She turned around, arms crossed over her chest.

"I know. It's terribly unfortunate."

"So I'll see you around." He shrugged. She gave him another once over, taking in his dark hair, gorgeous eyes, and muscled body that looked damn good in his uniform.

"Maybe." She promised with a tug of her lips, and finally walked away.

* * *

"Looking dapper as always, Mr…" Her eyes narrowed on his name tag. "William Scott. Original."

"And you're looking gorgeous, Miss…Carlisle." He noted. It was the night of the exchange ball, an attempt to test their ability to know their covers. They stood outside the dining hall, which was decorated in the finest silks, classical music flowing from the room. And she did look gorgeous, just especially gorgeous, in a tight fitting black strapless ball gown that highlighted her hair excellently. "Why do you always wear black?"

"I look good in black." She said matter of factly. "Let me fix your tie." She reached forward, untying and beginning to retie the bowtie of his tuxedo. "Ready to face the masses?"

"Only if you are." He replied, taking her arm as they turned into the room. It was filled with awkward teenagers mulling around.

"Oh, for Christ's sake." She sighed, looking at the sad scene around them. She stiffened when Professor Buckingham approached.

"Looks like your punishment had some effect on you, Miss Goode." She raised and eyebrow, and Catherine shot her a glare as Joe hastily led her away from her professor.

"Listen, in order to not fail Culture and Assimilation, I have to go talk to some people. Not that your company isn't stimulating, of course." She laughed, resting a hand on his chest. "See you later, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

"Hey, are you alright?" He was standing out on a balcony overlooking the Gallagher Academy grounds, despite the cold, and noticed that Catherine had joined him.

"Fine." Her voice was quieter than normal. He slowly noted her smeared eye makeup, her messy hair, and the dark bruises on her arms.

"I saw you arguing with that guy…did something happen with him?" She didn't reply, but her expression said everything. "Did he hurt you, because I swear to god-"

"No, no." She shook her head. "A bunch of staff saw; they're dealing with it." He let out a long sigh, but he noticed the unformed tears in her eyes, and tugged her into his arms.

"Hey, it's okay…" He said, surprised she even let him touch her, but she pressed her face into his chest, let his arms wrap around her. He could hear his heart beating in his ears at her closeness, and suddenly had the urge to change the subject. "What are you doing for the Christmas holiday?"

"Staying here." She curled closer to him, trying to get warm in the freezing December night.

"Why? Shouldn't you be going home to your family?"

"I don't have one." She murmured. "My parents and I were in a car accident when I was four. They died. I don't have any living relatives." He let out a deep sigh. He figured that this didn't make the conversation any better. "What about you?"

"Going home to my parents." He replied. "They don't know anything about all of this, though." She didn't say anything, and music floated from the dining hall out to the balcony. "Come on, let's dance."

"Excuse me?" She raised an eyebrow, and he held out his hand. She shook her head in confusion, and he let himself sway gently to the upbeat music. When she made no reaction, he started breaking out the corny dance moves.

"And do the sprinkler…mow the grass…pencil sharpener!" He called out his moves while she watched him in horror before finally bursting out into laughter, the tears fading from her eyes. He grabbed her hands, pulling her into his dance, letting her twirl around.

"God, this song is old." She replied, jumping around and skipping around with him.

"_While the other kids were rocking 'round the clock, we were hoppin' and boppin' to the crocodile rock_" He sang along loudly, and she laughed harder.

"_Oh lawdy mama, those Friday nights, when Suzie wore her dresses tight and the croc rockin' was out of sight_" She finished the chorus. "You know, when I first met you, I never thought I would be dancing around like an idiot with you to old Elton John songs."

"And do the scuba!" He said, doing everything he could to cheer her up. She was nearly keeling over with laughter.

"You'll come back after break, won't you?" She asked, twirling into him.

"Of course I will."

* * *

"So, you're telling me some random friend of yours called you up and asked to meet with you." Catherine asked as they hurried through downtown Roseville, past quaint stores. It was early spring, and she cupped her coffee in her hand as she kept up with him.

"He was a senior at Blackthorn when I was a freshman." He shrugged.

"This is the epitome of shadiness, I hope you know that." She said.

"I know, I know. That's why I'm bringing you along."

"I hope you know that right now, I could be spending my free day flirting with hot civilians."

"You won't let me forget." He grumbled as he opened the door for her into a diner.

"Joe." A tall, blonde man stood from his table to greet them. His eyes narrowed on Catherine. "Who the hell is this?"

"Oh, this is Catherine. She wouldn't let me come by myself." Joe said, as the pair took the seats across from the man.

"You might have been a crazed murderer that escaped from a mental institution." She shrugged.

"I said I wanted to meet alone." The man said through his teeth.

"Too bad." Catherine laughed. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"I think I have an opportunity for you." The man said to Joe, lowering his voice. "Have you ever heard of the Circle of Cavan?" Joe and Catherine looked at each other.

"Is that some sort of cult where they sacrifice chickens or something?" She wondered, raising an eyebrow. The man glared at her.

"No, it's not. It's a secret organization working within the world of espionage."

"This sounds like a bad movie plot." Catherine sighed. "Pray tell, what does this secret organization do? Meet at your mother's house?"

"Joe, does she really have to be here?" The man rolled his eyes.

"Yes." Joe shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Well, I joined up last year, and let me tell you, it's life changing." The man said. "It's all about the betterment of society. There are tons of criminals, the scum of the earth, that the CIA and organizations like it pass over because they are not a threat to them."

"And this so called organization catches them and stuff?" Catherine said.

"We also rat out moles – there are tons of dishonest people working in espionage." The man said. "So, are you in or are you out?"

"Well…" Joe said slowly.

"It won't affect anything. Your personal life, or your work. It's like…a side thing." The man drawled. "So, are you in?"

"Only if Catherine can come, too." Joe announced.

"What? Are you crazy?" Catherine said through her teeth.

"I don't want your fuck buddy coming along for the ride, Joe." The man said dully.

"Joe, he's a jackass!" Catherine said.

"Don't you want the betterment of society?" Joe asked.

"He's as shady as hell."

"I've heard of the Circle at Blackthorn." Joe lowered his voice. "They do great things, Catherine." She took a deep breath.

"Fine." She said loudly. "I'll join your little clique. But Joe's right, it's either both of us or none at all."

"Fine, whatever." The man said. "Done. I'll be in touch." Catherine and Joe exited the diner as quickly as possible.

"Joe, what did we just get ourselves into?" She asked breathlessly.

"I have no idea." He laughed. "But teenagers are supposed to be reckless, aren't they? And besides, it'll be fun. Saving innocent people and such."

"If you say so." She said under her breath.

* * *

"Well, this is fun." She said sarcastically, looking at the dirty ceiling above them.

"Did you think this was going to be all fun and games?" He asked, turning his head to look at her.

"Of course not, but they could have put us in a Four Seasons or something." She drawled, rolling her eyes.

"We're in the middle of Bhutan. In the winter."

"Well, they could have got us two beds." She huffed, curling deeper into the blankets as the snow storm raged outside.

"So you don't enjoy cuddling?" He wondered with a smirk, and she hit him in the chest. "So…how have you been?"

"Alright." She shrugged. "The CIA and the Circle…it's a lot of juggle. You?"

"Fantastic." He said, and their laughed filled the darkness.

"We should go to sleep." She whispered, moving closer to him.

"So you want to snuggle after all?"

"I don't want to die of hypothermia." She countered, leaning her head against his shoulder. He took a long breath, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. "Joe?"

"Hm?"

"We're friends, right?"

"No, I just enjoy stalking random strangers. Of course we are. Why?" She took a long time to answer.

"No reason. Good night."

* * *

He was surprised when she contacts him. It had been about two years since he had last heard from her. He would try to contact her, but it was always 'the Circle needs me somewhere' or 'the Circle needs me someplace', and he considered telling her that she was the one who wanted to join the Circle in the first place. He didn't see her around Langley, either.

"How are you?" He asked as she sat across from him at a nondescript café on the left bank of Paris.

"Okay." She nodded, and he noticed that she looked different. She looked a little thinner, and her hair was longer. She also looked tired, and her fingers tapped nervously on the table.

"How's what's his face? Alex?" He had grudgingly gotten used to her boyfriends du jour, and she looked up at him slowly.

"He died. On a mission with the CIA. A few months ago." She took a sip of her coffee, and he blinked.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I knew-"

"I'm pregnant." She blurted, and he nearly choked on his coffee.

"What?" He whispered, leaning closer to her.

"I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do." She said, her voice cracking as she took a deep breath.

"How far along are you?"

"Four months." She shrugged, gazing into her coffee. "It's a boy." He leaned back, staring at her in shock and disbelief.

"What are you going to name him?"

"Zach. Zachary, I think." She nodded, looking out the window. "I can't do this on my own, you know. I know nothing about raising a child."

"So you want me to help you raise your child?" He asked slowly.

"Pretty much. We're best friends, aren't we? And that's what friends do…help raise each other's kids and all."

"Under normal circumstances, I would tell you that you're crazy." He said, but she didn't smile. "But for you, fine. I will. God help us."

* * *

He found it ironic that though he was the one to suggest joining the Circle of Cavan, he began to hate it. They did not do what they said they would – they were cruel, and sadistic, and every day was hell for him. Catherine, he noticed, never seemed to mind. She excelled in her work, not seeming to care about the deaths she caused, the lives she ruined.

"Joe, Joe!" It was Zach, running towards him in tears. The boy had just turned seven, and he could see his mother in him; the eyes, mostly.

"What is it, Zach?" Joe hunched down to talk to the little boy. Zach held out his arm, and he noticed the massive bump sticking out of the side, the awkward way Zach was holding it. "What happened?"

"I fell, and, and…" Zach was sobbing too hard in pain. "Mommy!" Joe turned around to see Catherine in the doorway, staring at them, titling her head to the side a bit as she took in the situation.

"You should take him to a hospital, Joe." She said dully, glancing at him. Zach made a break towards his mother, but she had already turned around to leave. "Zachary, please. You just broke your arm. You'll live." Zach cried harder, and Joe glared after her. Catherine had always been rather distant with her son. Sure, she provided for him, but she left Joe to actually take care of him. And slowly, he started to realize that Catherine was never what he thought she was.

* * *

"I'm leaving."

"I know." She replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You aren't going to try to convince me to stay?"

"No. I mean, you aren't really Circle material anyway." She smirked, and he shook his head in exasperation.

"I'm going to enroll Zach in Blackthorn when he gets old enough." He said, trying to gouge a reaction from her. She shrugged.

"Good. Maybe he'll learn not to be so…unruly. Which he no doubt learned from you." She said coldly, and he took a deep breath.

"Whatever happened to us, Catherine?" He asked softly. "We used to be best friends, but now…you're a complete headcase." She took a step closer to him, and her eyes were hard and emotionless.

"I know." She said again, and he looked at her with confusion and suspicion. "What I didn't tell you was when I was in that car accident, I suffered severe head trauma. My cerebral cortex was damaged. Growing up in foster care…I was sent to a lot of psychologists. I did my best to appear normal, and fooled them all. And I didn't think I was different for a long, long time. Until Gallagher. Until I met you.

"I thought that maybe you would help me. I thought that you were my friend. But you never knew how dangerous I really was. Never even guessed the true extent of my...issues." Looking back, he always knew that Catherine was a little strange, but she always seemed…normal. Up until the Circle, that is.

"Don't you think it's hard? Never feeling anything besides anger, and hate." She whispered, shaking her head. "Don't you think it's terrifying, being able to kill dozens of people then going out for a coffee afterwards like nothing happened?" Her voice was rising. "Don't you think it's hard looking at my son, and being…indifferent towards him? Don't you think it's hard seeing you, and trying to tell myself how much I care about you even though I know that I am physically incapable of love?" Her voice dropped. "I'm a monster, and I don't care. No matter how hard I tried to be…sincere, it always was too superficial."

"You should get help." He said slowly, staring sadly at her.

"Don't you think I've tried?" Her voice was shaking. "I left Zach in your care because I knew I couldn't ever be a good mother. I am incapable of loving him like he needs to be loved."

"I'm still leaving." He whispered. "You should have told me. I loved you."

"I know." She nodded. "And I wish I loved you, too." He took a few slow steps away from her. "So this is how it's going to be then?"

"I'm afraid so." Catherine shook her head.

"Then goodbye."

"I hope you change, Catherine."

"I hope so, too."


End file.
